


You've Been Hacked

by Saintclare



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gangsters, Alternate Universe - Hackers, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Allura (Voltron), Emo Keith (Voltron), F/F, Gender-Neutral Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sex, Japanese Shiro (Voltron), Korean Keith (Voltron), M/M, Matt Holt has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Minor Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Minor Matt Holt/Shiro, Organized Crime, Past Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Pidge | Katie Holt is Savage, Sassy Pidge | Katie Holt, Sniper Lance (Voltron), This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Undercover As Prostitute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-25
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-07 12:26:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14080944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saintclare/pseuds/Saintclare
Summary: Hacking is all fun and games for Pidge, until they accidentally gets dragged into organized crime and a lot of shitty things spiral away from that.They probably should have listened to their parents and stayed out of all this hacking business.





	1. Chapter 1

 

 "Morning," Matt greets as he pushes the door to my shitty apartment. By  _shitty_ , I mean that the heating almost never works, the floor have to be covered by a shitty rug because the floorboards keep giving me splinters, the toilet has to be unclogged twice a week, and the one window can barely close.

Quality living here.

"Morning," I grunt in response, glancing away from my laptop on which I was watching videos. "Nice of ya to show up."

"Just visiting my little sib," he says, beaming as he settles down on the bed/futon I'm currently sitting on. I let a small smile slip onto my face as I take off my headphones and curl up with my head on his shoulder. The much taller young man ruffles my short hair, then frowns.

"When's the last time you showered?" he asks, backing away. I shrug.

"Three days ago," I reply. He looks vaguely horrified. 

"Pigeon, you can't do that!" Matt gasps, placing a hand dramatically over his heart and leaning back somewhat. "You need to keep clean! It's for your own good!" I shrug again, turning back to my laptop but not putting my headphones back on. 

"Eh," I respond, and he laughs a little. We have similar features, along with hair and eye color, but Matt's definitely the hotter one. I, personally, don't give three shits on how I look, but do tend to judge other people on their appearance. 

For example, a good friend of mine, Keith, is a fucking emo. 

Which is a-okay in my book, since we like the same bands and shit. He also likes knives and other sharp things, which is also not a surprise judging from how much metal is sticking out of his body at any given time. The last time I saw him, I think he got a tongue piercing. 

"How's the hacking been?" Matt asks, glancing over at the laptop screen. "Done anything for the good of humanity?" Taking a deep breath to prepare myself for what's to come, I reply. 

I tell him everything I've gotten myself into since the last time he saw me (which was two months ago). I tell him of my stumbling upon the secret files of the American Mob, which I hadn't previously known of. I tell him about how I learned that a famous beauty blogger, Lance McClain, was a sniper-for-hire. I tell him about the human experiments this mob did, their extortion of perfectly good people, the drugs that they distributed, what they did to the women who angered them.

When I'm done, I'm practically in tears from what Matt's probably going to say to me. He's probably going to hate me after all of this.

What comes out of his mouth next is something I'd never expect. 

"Pidge, it's okay," he says, pulling me close with one arm. "I've known about Lance doing shit like that for a few years now. He doesn't really like killing people, but he does it because his family really needs the money. People do things like that when they're really desperate."

"O-oh," I say, wiping some tears from my face. He smiles a little and kisses the top of my head gently.

"A friend of mine, Allura, she's the heiress to the Altean Mob," he continues after a moment of holding me close as I sniffle like a little baby. "You know, that really technologically advanced country you've wanted to visit for years now?" I nod, sitting bolt upright.

"They've started making actual hovercraft and their medical tech is amazing!" I say, my eyes wide and a smile plastered on my face. I've always wanted to go there, to see the marvels of what they created through science. Matt grins and ruffles my hair. 

"Good to know you still want to go," he says, his smile softening. "Because now that you know, Allura wants you to come and see her for help taking down the American Mob. The leader performed a hit on her father, and she wants to take them down."

I grin, sitting up and closing my laptop. "Sounds fan-fucking-tastic."

* * *

"Princess, are you sure this is a good idea?" I ask, leaning against the coffee table in the penthouse apartment. The princess is gazing out the window, her long white hair tumbling down her back and her hands folded behind her. She turns to face me, her blue eyes harsh against her dark skin and the orange-pink sunset behind her.

"Lance," she states firmly. "I've already made up my mind. We can trust Pidge Gunderson. They're Matt's younger sibling and an amazing hacker."

"Nonbinary?" I ask, sitting up. She nods, turning back to gaze out of the floor-to-ceiling glass balcony doors which lead out to an amazing view over one of the most crime-ladden cities in Altea. The princess grew up here with her uncle after her father was murdered in a hit from the American Mob. Her uncle, Coran Smythe, is pretty freaking weird but an excellent engineer who designed the security systems around and in the building that Allura lives in now. When she turned eighteen, she took charge over the Altean Mob from Coran (who was running it for her). She proved to be a very ruthless and intense leader, but her main strength was, and is, her diplomacy. By those means, she was able to garner the respect of organized crime groups all around the world. 

Allura steps away from the window and turns to me, her pale blue dress swirling around her slender ankles. Her eyes bore into me once again, and I mentally shiver. She can be terrifying when she wants to. 

"What is it, princess?" I ask, standing up and brushing some cat fur off of my dark blue jacket. Allura has three cats, all of them trained to fight off her attackers. They're pretty cute if Allura deems you as friendly to them, though. 

"I want you to go pick up Pidge from the airport," she says. "Their plane just landed a few minutes ago, and I don't want them to get hurt just by getting lost. Bring a gun." 

"Already got one, princess," I reply, showing her my silenced pistol from the pocket of my jeans. A tiny smile slips onto her face before she turns back to the window.

"Go," she says. "Bring Pidge back here when you're done." I nod and exit the building, making my way over to the airport quickly.

 When I get there, I see Pidge almost immediately. The small teenager is wearing a black t-shirt with green skinny jeans and a dark green bomber jacket. A plain black suitcase is being rolled behind them, and a small backpack is slung around one shoulder. Thin-framed round glasses take up half of their face and surround their hazel eyes, which widen when they seem me. 

"Hey," I greet, giving them a little wave and a smile. Pidge takes a few more steps closer, still quite on edge. 

"You're Lance," she says, peering closer at me. "I'm Pidge Gunderson, previously known as Katie Holt. Which you probably already knew." I grin wider.

"All I knew was that you were related to Matt," I say. "And yeah, I'm Lance. Nice to meet you."  
 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We finally get to meet the Broganes and Hunk + Allura and her crazy (sort-of) gf. This chapter takes place three days later after the previous one.
> 
> TW: Mentions of self harm, implied sex and extreme violence

"So, did Allura and Pidge meet yet?" I ask Shiro, leaning across the table in a small cafe. The silver-colored chain necklace I'm wearing hits against the metal table, making a pleasant metallic  _clang_. Shiro nods, glancing up from the book he was reading. 

"Lance brought her over," he says, his nearly black eyes examining me. "They're talking now. Does your tongue stud hurt?" I stick out my tongue to show the stud, which is small. I might get something bigger, but for now this works fantastic. 

"It's fine," I say, grinning and moving my tongue back into my mouth. "Doesn't hurt one bit." Shiro sighs and rubs the scar over the bridge of his nose, which he does when he's annoyed or stressed. 

"This is...the tenth piercing?" he asks, frowning. "Why do you want to do this to yourself?" I lean closer, to whisper in his ear.

"It's better than what I was doing a few months ago," I purr, then lean back and settle into my seat. The older man's eyes widen, but he then settles back down with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Keith, I thought you were done using that as leverage against me," he says, taking a sip of his coffee. I shrug 

"Eh, you know me," I say, folding my gloved hands in my lap. I'm rather out of place among the Alteans, with my dark clothing and many piercings. Also, the Alteans have pointer ears than the rest of the people in the world and are generally  _much_  better-looking. My ears are hidden under my dark hair, which has a single metal clip in it to hold my bangs away from my face. 

The two of us sit in silence for a while before I stand. "I'm going to leave now, see ya later." Shiro shrugs, not looking away from his book as I leave the cafe, my boot-clad feet making loud noises as I walk out.

I didn't leave because I didn't like Shiro (we've actually known each other for a pretty long time), I actually have some things to get done. A mutual friend of mine and Pidge's, Hunk, moved to Altea after being evicted from his previous place in the U.S. because of his tinkering with literally anything he could get his hands on. This has made him a very talented individual, and he's helped Allura and the Altean Mob many times. 

He also happens to be fixing one of my favorite knives, and I need to check and see if he's done with it yet. 

I head over to the fairly simple, but nice, apartment complex a few miles away from the cafe. In Altea, there's no homeless or extreme poverty. Even if you are poor, you still get to live in a fairly decent apartment. When I arrive, I use my keycard to buzz myself in and head up to the fourth floor, knocking on apartment 409.

"Yo, Hunk," I say, rapping my knuckles on the door again. "Open up." There's some rustling and thuds before the big Hawaiian man opens the door. His long hair is tied back with an orange headband and his yellow t-shirt is covered in grime. Hunk's face lights up in a big grin when he sees me, though.

"Kogane!" he cheers, wrapping me in a bear hug and lifting me off my feet. "I haven't seen you in such a long time!" I grunt a little, and he sets me safely down on the carpeted floor.

"I literally saw you last week," I say, rolling my eyes a little. I can't help but smile at him, though. The big guy just lights up any room that he's in. "How's Shay?" Hunk steps back to let me into the messy apartment, then smirks. 

"How's Lance?" he asks, punching me playfully. The punch does send me stumbling backwards a little, but I roll my eyes again. 

"We're doing just fine," I reply, smiling happily. "My little sharpshooter is doing just great." Hunk grins and starts rifling around on a large desk covered in various metal objects.

"Good for you," he says. "You and Lance are a good pair." His back is still turned to me as he rummages around, occasionally tossing things behind him. I have to dodge a few larger things, but catch something that looks like a miniature engine. He rummages around for another few minutes before pulling out my knife. It's of an unknown design, a long, slender blade with an odd violet glowing symbol on the hilt. There doesn't appear to be anything else added onto it. 

"Uh, did you add anything onto this?" I ask, tilting my head. One of the long earrings that I'm wearing brushes against my bare shoulder, but I pay no mind to the cool metal feel. Hunk beams.

"I'm glad you asked!" he says, clasping his hands together in excitement. "There's nothing you can see on it right now, but I added something so when you stab someone and press right here-" He points at a tiny risen area that I didn't notice before "-it shocks them! You can also just press it against someone and taze them that way, and if you put it against any electronic and press that area, it shorts it out!"

"Wow," I say, examining it. "That's really awesome, Hunk." He smiles wider, if possible. "It looks like you fixed the blade, too." Hunk nods excitedly. 

"Yeah, I added that really fancy Altean metal, Quintessence, to it," he explains. That kind of metal is nearly impossible to get your hands on unless you were super rich or part of the military. "It took me a while, but I got it! It should be a lot stronger now."

"Thanks a lot, man," I say, clapping him on the back. He pats my head in response. 

"Now go off and do your mob stuff," he says, beaming. "I gotta fix my neighbor's computer." With another wide grin, I head out.

* * *

"Allura, are you okay?" someone asks me. I snap out of my daze to refocus my eyes on the person sitting beside me on the couch. Her red hair is loose, long red waves hanging down to her waist and passing over her shoulders and chest. Turquoise eyes gaze kindly at me with a slight amused narrowing to them, otherwise her slightly tanned face is relaxed, calm. 

"Yes, I'm fine," I say, sitting up straighter. Mika smiles a little at me and leans over to kiss my cheek gently.  

"You sure?" she asks, tilting her head. The little head tilt shifts some of her hair away from her bony, bare chest, causing me to look away. Mika giggles a little, placing a slender, pale hand close to her lips. "You're adorable, princess."

"Thanks," I say, standing up and dressing back in my lavender-colored dress. I wear dresses like these a lot, to disguise my power and rage through little-girl femininity. It's worked so far, causing people to think I'm just a cute little girl who took over the Altean Mob.

Unlikely.

When I'm done, Mika redresses also in her red dress and leggings and braids her hair back. The mob enforcer is only half-Altean, which is shown through her slightly elfish features and smooth red hair. Her overall appearance is very doll-like and delicate, but she has a crazy sort of rage and because of that I've seen her do some horrible things to others. 

"So, princess, is there anyone you need me to hurt today?" she asks, tilting her head with a cute little smile on her face. I tie my hair back in a long ponytail before replying. 

"Yes, actually," I say, not smiling in return as I strap all my various weapons onto my body. Two knives in thigh sheaths, a handgun in a visible holster, the garrote wire disguised as a bracelet, the shock ring that Hunk made for me on commission, and finally two small knives hidden up each of the slightly wide sleeves of the dress. This one is shorter than the others, as it only goes down to my knees. After I get all of those things on, I put on a pair of knee-high black boots--not my normal white ones, as there might be a lot of bloodshed today.

Mika puts on her bright pink sneakers on and loops her sling bag around her shoulders, adjusting it so it's comfortable. "Ready to go?" she asks. I nod.

*****

****

*****

It takes Mika two hours to kill her.

Mika seems to take more pleasure out of killing women, particularly ones with long brown hair and green eyes. I've never asked her why, but I have a suspicion that it has to do with whoever left the burns between her legs and her inner thighs. 

I had to remain outside of the tiny shack where Mika tortured people for over an hour, listening to the middle-aged woman's screams of agony and Mika's high-pitched laughter, sounding sweet and carefree. 

Now, though, Mika is leaning against me as we wander through the city, holding my hand and humming as we stroll. It's a peaceful, domestic scene.

Scenes like this, I've come to realize, are a sort of calm before the storm. A storm that would cause bloodshed and heartache, like when my father was murdered.

I refuse to let that happen to any of my loved ones ever again.

I'll kill, steal, hurt, anyone who tries the same with them. 

But, like mostly everything else, storms are unpredictable.

 


End file.
